


the unfailing love of children and gods

by uruhead



Series: please, let me try agian [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Children, Gen, M/M, Past Character Death, Reincarnation, Requited Love, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uruhead/pseuds/uruhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>children are hardy creatures, bouncing back without the slightest bruise. loki's mind is addled by the memories of a distant past, and his childish mind is overtaken by his war-ridden one.</p><p>not a standalone. please read the first part <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5431490">i'm crippled</a>, part of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/369323">please, let me try again</a> series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love stories where Odin isn't a dick. I can imagine him knowing shit through all lives no matter what, once he gets his hands on The Well (if you don't know what The Well, aka Mimir's Well is, [here's](http://norse-mythology.org/tales/why-odin-is-one-eyed/) a great article describing what it is and what Odin did to get the knowledge from it). He's like an old dad in this one, just a little tired and worn.

It was as if he had the knowledge with him the entire time, through his whole life. Even as a babe, the deja vu would run rampant, making him pause before running after his brother. He didn't realize what was truly happening until a night once he woke, shivering with realization that he had _died_ with his brother atop him, watched Asgard _burn_ , seen _the end_.

The apocalypse had touched him and he had asked to go home, and he was here. He was home.

Loki's gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling. His body was trembling like a leaf, fingers clenching.

His eyes turned to his brother, lying beside him in stone-cold sleep. They often found comfort lying together at night to ward off nightmares, but this one, the slow dawning of cognition that he had been here before was not a nightmare so much as it was just… waking up.

Thor's face was soft, his belly still round with puppy fat – they had to be the mortal equivalent of 9 or 10.  His expression was peaceful and it seemed like all things were right in the world. Loki pulled his hands up in front of himself and twisted them, looking down at the stubby, childish fingers and the unscathed skin.

Blinking, Loki set his hands on his stomach again. He debated to if he should have woken Thor or not.

He was a Jotun. A giant, a runt, he was all of those things and he knew it now. He wondered if he would be able to access his magic like he used to, even if he were so young. He didn't wish to try. Sitting up, Loki ran his hands through his short hair and cupped his cheeks.

Tears dripped off his face and he hiccuped. He turned to Thor, nudging him with his foot and starting to truly cry. His brother's eyes opened. Seeing Loki crying, Thor sat up and crowded into Loki's space, wrapping his arms around his little brother and quieting him gently.

“It's okay, it's okay, little Loki. What's wrong? What's wrong, huh?”

How was Loki supposed to say something like  _I remembered us dying_ or  _It was my fault?_ How? He settled for melting into his brother's embrace and sobbing.

How long had it been since he had truly let himself go like this? In his past life, he had stuffed those emotions deep down and refused to let them go. Compact them until they dried and then compact them more. Loki felt sick, like he was going to throw up.

“Do I need to go get Momma?” Thor asked, his little voice worried and shaking. “Loki, are you okay? You haven't cried like this for ages.”

Loki nodded. Frigga. His mother, his only mother, the only mother he would  _accept_ as his own, she would know what to do.

Thor called out to the hall, a guard knocking before entering. Thor ordered with all the might of a king in his childish body to fetch the queen. It took mere minutes for Frigga to come sweeping in, her dressing gown wrapped around her shoulders and looking like an angel. She rushed to the side of the bed and sat upon it, pulling Loki into her arms and rubbing his back. With a flick of her hand, the lights came on dimly.

“What's wrong, darling?” she cooed. “Thor, do you know what happened?”

“He woke me up, he was just crying. I-I don't know what scared him so bad. I asked him if he wanted you and he said yeah, so I called for the guards.” Thor scooted close, cuddling close to their mother and resting his hand on Loki's knee.

Loki sobbed, a true wail leaving him. He sounded pitiful. Fat tears ran down his cheeks and he dropped his weight in his mother's arms, clutching onto the silk of her gown with all of his strength and pushed his face into her shoulder to muffle the sound.

Frigga bounced her knee slightly to move him, petting his hair. “Oh, Loki. Loki, what's wrong, my sweet?”

The lights brightened and Odin strode inside. The guards rested their fists over their hearts before they were dismissed. Odin's one eye swept the room suspiciously before he went to his wife and children ( _child_ , Loki's mind supplied, and Loki knew better than to deny it, but there was some inkling feeling in the back of his neck that Odin  _does_ –  _did_ – care). He knelt on the ground, pressing his hand to Loki's back.

Odin's deep voice thrummed through the entire room and it felt as if Loki's body was settling, like all of the little bits of sand and grain were sifting to the bottom of a jar. Turning his head, Loki saw Odin's vacant eye socket covered by gauze. It must have still be fresh. He saw the tiniest blots of red stains on the fabric.

Odin's eye found both of Loki's and a hardness came over them, like he knew that Loki had seen what had happened in his past life. Odin probably did know. He probably saw something in Loki that no one else could.

“What's wrong, my son?” Odin asked cordially. His hand was still soft on Loki's lower back. “Hmm?”

Loki wanted to tuck himself back into Frigga's embrace, though he was being neither pushed nor pulled into it. He turned to Odin and he reached his arms out, getting a small gasp of surprise from his mother and brother. Odin smiled gently as he pulled Loki into his lap, sitting back on his rear and crossing his legs under him as he cradled his youngest son. “Ah. I see.”

Loki tucked his hands against his own neck and sighed through his mouth. Frigga conjured a tissue for him, letting him blow his nose. Thor swung his legs off the side of the bed and looked sad.

Loki had stopped crying, or at least stopped wailing, only silent tears falling down his face. “I want to know,” Loki whispered hoarsely. “Please tell me. Tell us.”

Odin's shoulders sagged, keeping eye contact.  Loki's sudden epiphany to his origins would change the entire time line, perhaps change everything all together – and why, even, would it be the same after this? Why would it be the same in the first place? One step out of place would change everything, in theory – but it seemed like Odin already knew such a thing.  Telling Loki and Thor, telling  _Asgard_ of Loki's true nature would be earth-shattering.  He gently shook Loki's shoulders with a sad smile.

“You have always been too smart for your own good, little Loki. Tomorrow. I will tell everyone tomorrow.”

“Tell us what?” Thor asked, jumping down from the bed and kneeling before his father with wide, curious eyes. “Tell us what, father?”

“You'll see tomorrow, Thor. I promise, you'll be there.” Gently, Odin raised his hand and rest it atop Thor's head. “Why don't you two crawl back into bed. We'll keep the lights on for you, just in case you get any nightmares again.”

Frigga waved her hand fluidly and smoothed the quilts. Odin got up with a grunt and laid Loki down on the bed. Thor scrambled next to him and hugged his brother, petting his hair like Frigga had. He used his sleeve to wipe Loki's nose and dry his temples (which, in hindsight, was disgusting, but so very much like a child) as Frigga and Odin went to each side of the bed and pulled the covers up over their boys. They leaned in and pressed kisses to the tops of their heads.

Thor smiled when Frigga laid her hands down at the end of the bed and warmed the mattress beneath them, letting them get cozy.

“You're the best!” Thor cheered, tugging the quilts up higher and wrapping Loki in them.

They lights dimmed around them and the door closed with soft “goodnight”s left in their parent's wake. Thor closed his eyes with a giant sigh and Loki snuggled into his brother's hold. Tomorrow would be hard, so might as well get a good night's rest before all that.

  


  


It seemed like it was hardest for Odin in the situation, which was a little confusing. The concept of Loki's word was being turned on its head – though in reality, he knew already that he was Jotun – and Thor's brother was suddenly not his brother.

They were in a small alcove of a garden, Frigga sitting on the ground with her boys, legs tucked beneath her on a quilt, while Odin sat on a bench made of quarried stone. His fingers twitched and fiddled with air as the rest waited patiently for him to speak. His lone eye searched helplessly on the ground, through the grass, like it would have an answer.

Loki was about to pipe up when Odin took a deep breath. “After this, I would like to see you, Loki, in my study. Would that be alright?”

“Is Loki in trouble?” Thor cried, sitting up straight. He was ready to defend at a moment's notice – possibly for the night before, or maybe because of their brotherly bond. Frigga pulled Thor gently back onto his butt and smoothed down his hair.

“Loki's not in trouble,” Odin whispered. “No. Loki, you're not of Asgard.”

Loki blinked and nodded. He reached up and pushed his hair behind his ear. “What am I?” he offered.

“You're a Jotun. While at war with Jotunheim, I didn't only take the Casket of Ancient Winters from them. I took a babe, left at a temple, seemingly left out in the frozen wind to die.”

The way he phrased it was very frank, but Loki seemed solemn. Odin might have told Frigga of the knowledge in Loki, or perhaps he didn't. Loki didn't look up into his mother's eyes, not wanting to see what he found there. Acceptance, likely, but even that seemed like it would be unsettling.

Odin's gaze turned to Thor, who was turning red in the face quickly.

Thor jumped up, fists in balls and preparing himself to strike anything in his way. “You're lying! You're  _lying_ , this isn't a funny joke!”

Everyone stayed silent as Thor fumed, looking around. Odin seemed to shake a little, fingers dipping into his palms and feeling the skin, the calluses.

“You're...” Thor seethed. “You're lying. Right?”

“No, darling,” Frigga breathed. “No, your father is right. Loki is a Jotun.”

Loki looked up at Thor, seeing him looking down at Loki with some kind of confusion in his eyes.  It wasn't betrayal, so much as Thor was really just trying to wrap his head around the entire thing. Perhaps he didn't know the meaning of 'adoption'. “Well,” he puffed his chest. He took two deep gulps of air before he dove down and tackled Loki to the ground. He wrapped his arms and legs around Loki's body and started to yell, no,  _scream._ “You can't take him away! He's still my brother! He's my baby brother and, and I'll punch anyone in the teeth if they try to take him away from me!”

Odin let out a barrel of a laugh, gripping his knees as he doubled over. The tension from his shoulders eased as he wiped his single eye from the tears of his mirth. “Thor, we're not going to take him away from you. He's still our son, he's still your brother.”

Frigga giggled as Thor's grip tightened around Loki, looking like a protective puppy. Loki wrapped his arms around Thor's torso and smiled, tucking his nose into Thor's neck with a happy sigh. Maybe Thor might not feel so passionate in a few years, but for now, this was enough. Having his brother crushing his ribs with his thighs and nearly choking him would be enough.

“You're… you're _damn right!_ ”Thor bellowed, earning him a quick swat on the rear from their mother.

“Language!”

  


  


  


Odin's study was much larger than Loki remembered, but he was also about a foot and a half shorter than he had been when he was in there last. Loki had not had much cause to go into Odin's study – he rarely got in trouble, and he hadn't needed to do anything official yet in this life. He sat on a chaise and sipped at a glass of water, looking at how only his toes touched the ground.

“It's strange speaking to you this young about such serious matters. I didn't expect I would ever have to have this conversation with either of my sons.” Odin sighed and sat next to Loki, swirling his drink in a glass. The room was lit by magical lights as well as the sunlight filtering in through the balcony window.

“Do you really think of me as your son, still?”

Scoffing, Odin leaned back. “I always have. I always will.”

“Last time, you didn't seem so keen.” Loki scowled. “Sending me to the dungeons, telling me… telling me _no,_ even after I killed Laufey for you.” That 'no' had felt like so much more, so much more rejection at the time, but looking back at it from an entirely new set of eyes made Loki feel petty.

Odin went quiet for a moment before he rested his hand on the back of Loki's neck. The condensation from the glass had chilled his palm. It sent a shiver through Loki. “You're still young. Are you angry?”

Loki breathed. His voice was soft as he uttered a “No.”

“Why not?”

Thinking, Loki shook his head. “I know I can change things. I know I have changed things. I, I don't know why I'm this way, why I'm here. I don't understand why my consciousness is suddenly so detailed. I remember dying. I remember seeing Thor be impaled by Surtr's spear, see the life leave his eyes. I remember Midgard, and I remember the feeling of blood on my hands. I can change that, though.” Turning in his seat, he looked up Odin. “I remember saying that I want to go home. I remember wanting it so badly. Thor held me when he died. He held me and told me that I can't go home, but I felt more at home in his arms than I did ever before.”

Loki's eyes brimmed with tears, but he blinked them back and drank his water. His head was starting to hurt. “He loved me.”

“ _Loves,_ ” Odin corrected with a smile. “He always will love you. I have seen it in The Well.”

Loki's eyes dropped to the ground, scowling. “What else have you seen in The Well?”

“You are so angry, Loki,” Odin chuckled. He was still so young, considering. Not as many wrinkles, fewer scars. “Please. You're still so young, you shouldn't be so worried about these things.”

Odin's hand rubbed along Loki's back, leaning over his knees. He let out a soft sigh and ruffled Loki's hair. All of the contact was so different, but Loki found himself leaning into each caress, seemingly touch-starved. 

“I have sacrificed enough to that old Well. I have seen enough, little Loki, and I have seen all different versions of the end. I have seen the good ones and the bad ones, and I have seen the one that you remember. Thor loves you. You saw it today, you saw it last night, and you saw it when you died that day on the battlefield.

“Some lives, he loves you as a brother would, and others he would not. You are the same. Your love, both of you, would be… _stubborn_ , for a word. Passionate, and immovable. It is a constant fixture in each life that I pass through. My sons, my darling sons, with their impossible love.”

Odin beamed as Loki tucked his knees to his chest and relaxed into Odin's embrace.

He was right, in many aspects, of how Thor and Loki were… improbable, to say the least. Their lives intertwined and it seemed as if there would be no Loki if there was Thor. Thor was his brother, and even if he loved Thor unlike a brother in some of these lives, he would always be. Loki's fingers tightened around the fabric of his pants, but shook his head.

“I want to make it right.”

Stroking Loki's hair back over his forehead, Odin's smile softened. “There is no wrong in this, Loki. You have me by your side, no matter what. I will be here for you, my little prince.”


	2. perhaps with shaking hands we find wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been years since Odin revealed Loki's true nature. They've grown closer, but Odin's health is failing slowly but surely, meaning that Thor and Loki need to talk about the throne and who will take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to make this another story all together, but i felt as if this would be good as an extra chapter. will likely continue doing that to this story, adding different chapters. merry christmas, btw!

Loki's heritage was revealed swiftly after it was revealed to the rest of the family. With his new knowledge – or at least, the newly accessible knowledge – he was able to excel in his classes and understudy quicker. By the equivalent of 15, he had already traveled with Odin to many different diplomatic events and mastered some of the illusions his old self wouldn't have even thought of mastering until later in life.

Most of the realm was impressed by his success, and the difference it made on Loki's self esteem was astounding. Thor's friends would come talk to him instead of deliberately berating him for different reasons; people wouldn't shun him on the streets for being the younger brother of the heir to the throne. Some of the residents of Asgard would still heckle him for being different, but only because of his race – telling him to go back to the icy plane of Jotunheim in inappropriate ways for a young man such as Loki.

And Thor, shining Thor, would always be there for him. His supportive brother didn't draw away, and held the back of his head as they embraced no matter what. He would hold Loki to his chest and listen to his long speeches about the importance of weapon safety or sit quietly when Loki was applying healing salve when Thor knew he would get in trouble for doing something stupid and getting hurt for it.

Thor was a constant, a figure of light and purity, so very much like all of those books he read of fairy tales and knights and princes: something to come save him when he was in distress.

While Loki was more than ready to take the throne, Odin looked him straight in the eye and asked him: “Do you want that?”

“Truthfully, no.”

“Why not?” Odin asked. He poured himself another glass of mead, and Loki had some spiced wine. He was going into the years of adulthood, and Odin loved these conversations so.

“I love to see the look on Thor's face when he's faced with a problem he can't solve. It looks like a dog who has run into a sliding glass window a thousand times, and every time he does it he still wonders _what is this thing? What is it doing here?_ ”

Odin chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Ah, yes! I had the same dumbstruck look on my face every time something like that happened to me. It wasn't until your mother finally came along and guided my hand in a different direction, gave me a different point of view, that I really started to learn how to rule a kingdom.”

Loki's hand clenched slightly around the glass he was holding. He switched his position on the couch, crossing his right leg over his left and covering his stomach with his forearm. Loki's eyes dropped to the fireplace near the internal wall and hummed noncommittally.  He wondered if Thor would find himself a better viewpoint like Frigga. He entertained the though briefly that  _he_ might be the one to guide Thor's hand. To wrap his arm around the king's waist at night and cup his wrist, whisper wisdom into his ear with soft caresses of love.

He had noticed, subtly of course, that Thor hadn't been showing him the same affection. Thor was the same brute he had always been – brash, unapologetically loud and obnoxious – and he wondered what he had d one differently to lose the same train of thought going through Thor's head, to inspire those sinful thoughts that Loki was dreaming of nearly every night.

They stayed quiet for a moment, then Odin leaned forward to gain Loki's gaze again. That one, blue eye bore into his own,  _knowing._ “Tell me,” he whispered.

“I don't think he loves me,” Loki deadpanned.

“He does,” Odin said. He leaned back in his chair with a groan and pressed his hand to his side. “You are in the moment, in your head, and you only have a very small vantage point of where you can see your brother's love. From where I'm standing, his love is the only thing that keeps him here. His friends, his family – none of that matters. He would go to the ends of the universe for you. He would follow you into darkness and back, even if it killed him. It's as if a sun is burning in the distance, and Thor would be more than willing to throw himself into the light to snuff out any shadow of a doubt anyone might have for you, Loki.”

Loki swallowed, throat clicking slightly out of the nervous tension building in his stomach. He took a sip of his wine. “Would he take the throne?”

“If worded correctly, yes. Absolutely, he would step up to being king if he knew that it was what you wanted, or if it was something he was able to do to protect you.”

Loki ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it back and out of his face. It was long, and needed to be cut.

A memory flitted in his mind. Frigga would call in Thor and Loki to their chambers, sitting on the bed with Odin, smiling brightly while her two bright boys would come charging in with manes of hair flying behind them. She would have Thor sit before her and Loki before Odin, combing out Thor's hair with her fingers and a fine-toothed comb while Odin would be cursory and strict with Loki's thick locks.

They would do this every night, brushing and braiding their hair so that they wouldn't have it tangled the next morning. He remembered the tiredness on Thor's face after a long day of sparring, or going out into the forest to hunt with their father – something that was normal, knowing that Thor was to become king, and the crown prince needed to learn how to be a proper king. He would be tired, still only a child, and every night when Frigga's hands were laid upon his scalp, it was as if the entire world melted away.

If it meant that Thor would get a little peace in his mind for a few moments, Loki could take the brunt of Odin's perfunctory combing and braiding for a couple of minutes.

He came back to himself once Odin scuffed his foot against the ground. Loki licked his lips nervously and took another drink.

“But,” Odin continued, “I believe that you would do the same thing. If Thor turned down the throne, you would take it to protect him.”

“With knowledge of a past life, I understand that now. I understand from a different vantage point, but I don't understand here and _now_.” Loki looked frustrated beyond belief.  Loki was basically just repeating what Odin had just said. He pushed his hair back again, gripping the ends before throwing his hand down against his lap. “I want to understand!”

Odin tutted. He set down his glass and reached down to the side of his chair for a small pillow usually used for his back. He set it between his feet and waved at Loki to come closer. “Get your mother's brush from the wardrobe and come here. Your hair is too beautiful to cut now. Let me braid it, for old time's sake.”

The thought calmed Loki slightly. The burning fury simmered, but he obeyed Odin. He walked to the wardrobe and gripped the brush in his hand, looking at the reflection presented to him. Loki's eyebrows were taut with anger, and his forehead creased prematurely. He let his shoulders relax with a breath and walked back to Odin.

Sitting down on the pillow, he gently leaned back against the chair and let the old man get to work.

Odin's hands were shaking ever-so slightly, but they were dry and didn't pull on any strands harder than necessary. Loki was quite used to having his hair pulled and scalp abused, but Odin was careful and took his time with each plait.  The entire process brought a surprising amount of stress relief to Loki's mind, grounding him.

“You should speak with Thor. In my memory, I haven't seen you two sit down and talk about who should become king, or what you would do after one of you is chosen. It will help. You will become stronger because of it. Your bond will.”

Loki didn't nod, but he hummed in a slight agreement.

The very thought of speaking with Thor about the kingship was  disturbing . It had been so obvious that Thor would be the choice for that position, and yet the last time around, Loki had been so devastated that it hadn't been him. 

It was a while until Odin finally finished the intricate series of braids. He clapped his hands over Loki's shoulders when it was finally finished and shook him gently. “There we go. Hopefully after that I'll still be able to use a quill! I haven't used my fingers like that in such a long time.”

Odin conjured a small ribbon and tied the ends together tightly.

“Go ahead,” he chuckled, “you can feel, or look.”

Loki stiffly stood, walking over to his mother's wardrobe again. There were four braids from his temples that were easily blended in with the main braid at the nape of his neck. His hair was out of his face and tastefully done.

“I didn't know you were able to do this kind of thing, One-Eye,” Loki teased. “Seems like quite a feminine trait.”

“You and I both know that we're not exclusive to _masculinity_ , Loki.”

Loki glanced back over his shoulder, throwing his hair in the process, and dropped his arms over the back of the chair. His youth all those years ago was fading quickly, wrinkles carving themselves into the supple skin around his eyes and mouth. Odin smiled up at him and sighed softly.

“I believe it's time for this old man to lie down for a while,” he huffed. “Speak to your brother, Loki. I don't know how much I have left in me. I don't want to make hasty decisions.”

“You should speak to him more often,” Loki murmured. His hand came down onto his father's head and smoothed back the thinning hair there. “I don't want to deliver second-hand news, after all.”

Odin chuckled dryly. “Always so smart, little Loki.”

  


  


Thor's mornings were spent on the training fields, leaving him full of bruises and sweat stains for the rest of the day, but he swore by his routine. Loki didn't join him often, much more of one for magic and books (also, sleeping in in the morning) but he decided that he would join Thor today, only to speak with him about the throne.

Odin was right, they hadn't spoken of it before. Even bringing up the subject left Thor a little dazed and confused. He was in a spar with a younger soldier when Loki brought it up.

“I spoke with Odin last night,” Loki hummed, standing to the side in the morning light.

“About?” Thor said easily. He blocked a few of the soldier's blows, cuffing him upside the head with a grin.

“About who would should take the throne.”

Thor stalled for a second, his eyes turning toward Loki. His face scrunched a little, and Loki felt a stab of guilt. The soldier grabbed Thor by the forearm and placed a foot behind one of Thor's legs, bringing him down onto the ground with a solid _thump._ The wind got knocked out of him quite effectively, and Thor laid there for a moment.

Loki went over and clapped the kid on the shoulder. “Get some water. Good job.”

Thor sputtered and coughed as he spoke. “Why would you talk to him about that? That's a long way off from now.”

“Not long enough,” Loki sighed. “Odin has become tired in his old age, brother. I believe it won't be too far in the future when we will have to decide who will rise in his place.” He reached down with a proffered hand.

Thor grabbed him and grunted as he stood, dusting off his backside and shaking his head. The ponytail on the back of his head was getting loose. He untied it and shook it out, fanning over his shoulders. “Let's get some water and sit, then.”

Obviously, the topic of conversation made Thor uncomfortable.

They sat  under a shady tree , watching the green hills being overcome by multiple different platoons, doing simulations and making laps. Thor had splashed his face with water and dried himself with a towel tucked into the side of his pants by his hip. Loki pushed Thor's hair out of his face and smiled.

“You look like a dog.”

Thor snorted, pulling his hair back and tying it off quickly to get most of it out of the way. “Better?”

“I quite like dogs,” Loki winked playfully. Thor laughed and shook his head.

Silence sat around them for a moment before Thor grunted and sighed. “I don't know. I suppose it would be good to let Odin live out his last years without the burden of the kingdom on him.”

“He'd still be there,” Loki supplied, “giving instruction and advice. It would help us… whoever might become the king learn what he might do, what he should do. We wouldn't be going in blind.”

Thor nodded solemnly. His face was freshly shaven, shirtless and gleaming in the stray bits of sunlight coming through the leaves. His hair was soft looking, the nape of his neck having thin pieces of hair sticking out in a silly way that made his entire demeanor less imposing. His hands were wrapped with linen and knuckles already bruised for the day, just like that had been for the past few weeks. Loki licked his lips and forced himself to look away.

“I would be willing to take the throne if you don't wish it,” Thor whispered. “I haven't been keen on my studies like you have, and I assumed that you were doing all of this studying and diplomacy to secure your seat.  If I had known this was up for conversation, I might have been more studious. ”

“I should have mentioned it earlier.”

Thor shrugged. “What are your thoughts?”

It was hard to say. Loki wanted Thor to take the throne, and he wanted to see how he would do. Loki could be a right-hand, or a diplomat. He could work under Thor's hand, and try to do his best to make it up to his brother of how he acted his past life. But… Thor was right. He hadn't been as studious as he should have been, and he could have learned much more if he had sat down and read a book other than continue to go out and hunt with his friends. He would make a great general, and he would do much better as a friendly diplomat under the name of the king. What would people say if Loki was king of Asgard? A true-blooded Jotun on the throne, no one to guide his chilly hand from waging war or doing some unspeakable thing. There was still such stigma about the frost giants, and Loki was still an outcast depending on his adopted family to keep him safe from the racism and hatred toward his native people. 

The thoughts whirred through his head and made him feel sick.

“I don't know,” he croaked. He pulled his knees to his chest and breathed to try to calm his stomach.

Thor noticed his discomfort and got closer, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders and lowering his voice.  “ There is no need to become upset, little Loki. What's going through your head?”

So, Loki told him. Odin was right, yet again, about his brother's protectiveness over him.

“I would be the first to come after anyone who would think that you would not be a great king just because of your blood,” Thor growled. They leaned against one another, Loki's head pillowed on Thor's shoulder and an arm draped around his waist.

“They wouldn't listen to me,” Loki argued. “What good is a king who knows the answers to people who will do the opposite of what I say? They would follow you at even a suggestion.”

Thor's arm tightened around Loki's waist and he pressed his cheek to the top of Loki's head. “Then we'll make them listen. Being king is just a title, a face to them. We have listened to all of the inner workings, and there is so much more that goes into it. Mother has so much say into all of the decrees and speeches, and...”

The quiet that settled over them for a moment was enough time for Loki's heart to speed up and a realization to what Thor was going to say sink deep into his stomach. He didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing.

Thor jumped up to his feet with a smile stretching across his face. “We'll just have to rule at the same time!” he cheered.

“What do you mean?”

Loki knew exactly what he meant.

“A marriage! We're not biological brothers – a political marriage to bind us together, to rule the kingdom as one instead of splitting these hairs, forcing us to make a decision on who would be best fit, all of that would solve our problems!”

Loki swallowed a lump in his throat. He had a few arguments, though some of them were deeply flawed considering his lusts. “How would we go about this political marriage? It's unheard of for a royal family to marry into  _ itself, _ and the other realms are already itching for one of us to become king so they might have a chance to marrying off one of their daughters to us for some chance of a royal bloodline. How many enemies would we make if we married  _ each other? _ Even saying it is strange.”

“It would be strange, of course, be we could appoint said daughters and other elite to dukes or let them own land. If we play it right, we would make as few enemies as possible. We could speak with mother and father, and we could arrange a large ceremony to bind us so everyone can look on and see it's a political marriage instead of...” Thor paused, seeming to stop that train of thought where it stood. His shoulders slumped slightly, and it looked like a small light died behind his eyes.

The death of that light sparked a new one in Loki, a flicker of hope below his heart that made his chest warm.

“Instead of what?” Loki asked quietly. It was not in a harsh tone, instead curious and accepting.

Thor stood straighter and put a hand on his hip. He looked down at the ground and coughed. “A marriage out of  _ love _ I suppose, but that wouldn't be the right word. Lust, maybe. We would be doing it for the good of the kingdom, instead of having children or anything. Can you even have children?”

Loki snorted and covered his face with a palm. “I don't know,” he admitted. “Probably.”  Thor laughed and sat down before Loki again, letting their knees touch.

R eaching out, Thor grabbed Loki's hands and held them gently between them. Loki smiled briefly. He couldn't put his feelings out there. He had this life to make it right, and telling Thor how he felt now – all of those nights, wondering what Thor's lips would feel like on his own without the bittersweet knowledge that death was on its way – would ruin what they had.

Thor smiled back. “I love you, Loki.” He squeezed Loki's hands tightly in his own. “Honestly, I've been thinking about marrying for you for a while. Crazy, right? Just some dumb dream I had when I was younger, right after mom and dad told us about your heritage. We would have this big wedding, and you would hug me really tight and tell me that you love me. It was a very innocent dream. We would crawl into bed together and hold one another until the morning came.”

Loki's smile was easier to come, now. He laughed and shook his head. “You're right, though. We're not blood brothers. We could, in theory, get married. It would be good for Asgard.”

Thor's fingers knit with his own and he dipped his head to look Loki in the eye. “It'd be good for us.”

“What do you mean by that?” Loki whispered.

“I mean...” Thor swallowed and scooted closer. Loki's heart rate sped and he tried to relax as Thor leaned in and touched their foreheads. “I mean, I love you. I love you deeply, and I want the best for you. I would travel the ends of the universe to please you, and I don't know where I would be without you. You're beautiful, and smart, and graceful, and I-I've been wanting...”

“You have never been so eloquent with your words, Thor,” Loki chuckled.

Thor sat back and furrowed his brow slightly before he pulled his hands back and covered his face. His cheeks were turning pink. “Don't make fun of me!”

“I'm your brother, that's what I'm supposed to do!”

Loki barreled Thor over by wrapping his arms around his chest. They lay on the grass for a moment before Loki slithered up and looked Thor in the eye. It was a compromising position, but it felt right. “But I don't have to only be your brother. I can be your spouse, and your co-ruler, and your friend.”

“You've always been my friend,” Thor admitted. “Is this some roundabout way of asking you to marry me?”

“Oh,” Loki scoffed devilishly, “ if anyone were proposing, it would definitely be me. You'd be the blushing bride, squealing and jumping about. Look, you're already turning red!”

“Ah-ha! Sure, sure. Then, yes, I suppose we can get married for the good of our people.” Thor threw his arms up and rolled his eyes.

Loki smirked and petted Thor's hair back. “For the good of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://uruhead.tumblr.com/)


	3. how dumb do you have to be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the wedding. Frigga knows - she's not having any of that shit.

Odin's hands had gotten more wrinkled in the past few years, but he had taken to the thought of the political marriage well, and with one knowing eye he had even married them with a white ribbon wrapped around their hands in the great hall before the throne of Asgard. They would be kings together, and Thor had carried them through the threshold of the dining hall where everyone _Skol!_ 'd and drank until their bellies were distended and their thirst was only slaked when they were passed out on the long benches and tables.

It surprised Loki when he was the one who had to be carried back into their rooms, Thor holding him with his knees tucked over Thor's thick forearms and head nestled into his neck. He didn't breathe heavier, didn't let him know that he was awake or at least sober enough to be aware, enjoying the perfumes that Thor had used for their wedding (their _wedding_ ). Thor opened the door to Loki's room, small lights coming on with a wave of his hand and bringing Loki to his bed. He carefully pulled back the covers and thick, hand-made quilts and set Loki down.

Loki's eyes were open as Thor pulled back, his hands resting on his stomach and toes curling in his shoes. He looked tired, and Thor laughed.

“Brother, you were sound asleep when I picked you up. You should continue that.” Thor reached for Loki's feet, pulling off one shoe before reaching for the other.

Thor's strong fingers wrapped around Loki's thin ankle and tugged off his other shoe. Loki's eyes followed him lazily but with immense focus. Each touch, each small strand of hair out of place, each clasp pressed to his armor and each stitch that kept the red fabric on him. Thor tucked a strand behind his own ear before standing up, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Loki whispered. The sound was amazingly hard to force out of himself, but he did it, pushing over that small edge until his voice tumbled out. Thor stopped and looked back, the moonlight and small magelights lighting his features in the most lovely way.

“Yes?” Thor smirked.

Loki straightened a leg, toes pointing slightly as he kept strict eye contact. “I can't sleep in these trousers.”

Thor's mouth opened slightly with retort, but he closed it after a moment. He turned back and nodded with an amused smile, “I suppose you're right. We don't want you losing your legs because you weren't smart enough to take off your pants before drinking yourself asleep.”

He tugged away the right strings before he tucked his fingers beneath the hem and pulled them down. Loki held his breath, legs threatening to tighten and press his thighs together – out of embarrassment or anticipation, he didn't know – but he forced himself to lie still as Thor undressed him. “A-and,” Loki continued, “this shirt shouldn't… be slept in. The velvet will be ruined.”

Thor didn't reject him, carefully unbuttoning each artfully crafted button until the front was completely open. He helped Loki sit up and take off the jacket one arm at a time. Loki let himself be moved like a doll, sitting up when being directed to do so.

He was in a linen shirt and his undergarments, and though he could sleep in this, he didn't want Thor to leave. Loki didn't want to just _ask_ , that would seem far too desperate, so he didn't.

“This shirt smells, Thor,” Loki huffed, “I've been sweating. Can you remove this, too?”

Thor chuckled. “Yes, Loki.”

He ran his hands from Loki's thighs up his stomach and chest to gather the hem with his wrists. The action alone made Loki's breath hitch and he went wide-eyed. His underwear was suddenly too _little_ clothing, and goosebumps appeared on his thighs and arms.

Thor pulled the shirt over Loki's head and set it to the side with the rest of his clothes. He waited expectantly, half-sitting on the bed with one foot planted on the ground. Thor's smile was so patient, his eyes so soft, his features so young. Thor couldn't have been older than what he had been when he first had been banished to earth the previous life. He couldn't have been old enough to remember that earth-woman, Jane, to know that love, to know her body. A stab of jealousy sliced through his ribs and tickled his lungs. He bit down on his cheek.

“You're staring,” Thor murmured.

Startled out of his reverie, Loki took a deep breath in and glanced about two inches away from Thor's head, staring at the wall. _Am I not allowed to stare at my husband?_ he wanted to say. All that came out of his mouth was a meek, “Sorry.”

Thor's hand rested on his thigh and he leaned closer. “Don't apologize. Never apologize for that.”

Loki's eyes flicked back over to Thor's, feeling tears start to build. He always needed to apologize – not only for the little things in this life, but the scars that he had left in the past one. Loki's fingers reached up and ran across the left side of Thor's ribs. The velvet had the same texture as an old wound and Loki's tears fell silently.

With the same patience as before, at the end, like a mother and a saint, Thor just wiped away Loki's tears and smiled. “Why are you crying, little Loki? What has made you sad?”

Loki's lip quivered as he palmed Thor's side. “Will you stay?” he asked.

He expected a dumb question. _Tonight?_

“Always,” Thor breathed.

 

 

Frigga's fingers were fine-tuned to pluck at strings – at the harp, or the lute, but especially at weaving. Her tablet weaving was just a hobby, while the tapestries were years-long projects that were calculated to near perfection and told stories, futures. As she sat in her gardens, she often had her weaving sat out in front of her. Loki had always been fascinated with it.

“Odin knows quite a bit,” Frigga said casually, “and he's told me quite a bit, Loki.”

She was weaving a belt out of black thread and gold, making patterns of protection runes. Loki tapped his fingers against the table and looked up at his mother.

“What did he tell you?”

Frigga's eyes met his, and he felt his resolve wither beneath her gaze. “Everything, then?” Loki laughed.

“Of course – your father is amazingly loose-lipped when it comes to me. The things that I've heard from that man's lips would topple realms.” Frigga did something with the tablets and suddenly another layer on the belt was finished. “Thor doesn't know what you did, but he knows what you are to him now. Why are you keeping your past from him?”

Loki paused for a moment before he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I suppose it's because I love him. I don't want him to know that I did that. Those things.”

“If you love him, then why aren't you _telling_ him that you love him?”

She was _keenly_ aware, then. Loki's cheeks flushed and he sank a little in his seat. “I...”

“Your father has seen a thousand lifetimes of this family, and I know that not in all of them are you this meek.” Frigga pushed the tablets again and there was a new line in the belt.

“Meek?” Loki scoffed, though still felt like he needed to scrub the color out of his cheeks. “Mother, I am anything but.”

Frigga sniffed, seeming amused, before she glanced over to the palace doors. She raised her hand in greeting, and Loki followed her gaze. Thor was in a tunic with gold embroidering along his neck and shoulders, coming down the steps with a broad smile. Of course, dread filled Loki's veins, seeing the mischievous smile on his mother's face.

(Where else would he have gotten it from?)

“You invited Thor?” Loki hissed, glowering.

“Of course I would want to invite both of my sons for a luncheon, Loki, especially after their wedding – don't be so inconsiderate. Thor!” she called, beaming. “Over here!”

Loki sank in his seat, thoroughly wanting to just cast his illusion and disappear, but his mother would drag him back by his toes if he dared. Thor came down another set of stairs and approached. He kissed his mother on the cheek before taking the seat next to Loki. Thor squeezed his arm reassuringly before he leaned on the table.

“What are you making?” Thor asked.

“A belt, thank you for asking,” Frigga hummed.

Something had to break, here. Loki could already feel the sweat try to break out on his temples out of pure anxiety.

The sun glinted off of Thor's finger, seeing the ring that wed them together, even if it was under the guise of political. He had woken up with Thor holding him gently this morning, his velvet coat still on and probably sweated through, fingers loosely tangled in Loki's hair, protective as always. Loki had wanted to cry again, but he had slowly pried himself from Thor's embrace before he ashamedly disappeared for the day – until now.

He loved Thor, deeply, _painfully_.

“You are looking wonderful, today, Loki,” Thor hummed.

Loki looked up, seeing Thor looking at him with that dumb, oblivious, and peaceful smile on his face.

“Did you sleep well?” Thor asked.

Belatedly, Loki nodded – however he wanted to _deny_ it – meekly.

“I'm glad,” Thor rested his hand on Loki's knee and looked back to his mother. Loki's gaze followed and Frigga looked like she was about to glare a hole in the side of Loki's head.

Maybe, just maybe, it was _Loki_ who was dumb and oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr!](http://uruhead.tumblr.com/)


	4. nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a couple of weeks, though Loki's at the edge of his seat about telling Thor about his feelings, the idea that Thor might love him back already terrifies him.

They kept to their separate rooms, though most nights Loki would find himself hovering outside of Thor's chambers wishing that he had the guts to just go inside. Or at least knock.

His mother was right, he was getting _meek_ , and the thought terrified him. How could he be meek? He was a tyrant in another life, a villain, and now he was boiled down to a scared young adult wishing nothing more than a peck on the cheek from his big, older brother-husband.

Loki's knuckles ghosted along the door, not making a noise. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and knocking gently. It felt loud enough to knock the entire palace over.

It was a moment before Thor opened the door, eyes curious and then gleefully surprised at Loki's arrival. “Brother,” he sighed. “What is it? It's late. Did you have another nightmare?”

Thor's eyes were tinted with concern and he reached out to gently hold Loki's upper arm. He was dressed in a night shirt and soft linen pants, looking like he were about to fall asleep himself. Loki's heart thumped in his chest.

“No,” he said honestly – without meaning to, of course; a nightmare would have been the perfect excuse to crawl into Thor's bed – and reached up to hold Thor's forearm. “I just… I just wanted to see you.”

Thor's shoulders relaxed and he opened the door a little more, inviting him in silently. He was lead to Thor's bed and made to lie down, Thor taking off his slippers and jacket, and even then his trousers, before pulling him up next to him by the headboard.

Loki waved a hand and the lights dimmed considerably around them, casting the room into a soft, yellow hum of cloudy darkness.

Every shift under the quilts felt like echos in the room, but Thor just breathed softly with Loki under his arm.

They were married, _yes_ , but they hadn't even kissed on their wedding. They'd never kissed, not since the sloppy, childish kisses of their youth out of innocent love. Now, it was foreign to have someone's mouth even daring to press against his. Without realizing, Loki had reached up and ran his fingers along his thin lips, wondering what it would feel like.

Thor's eyes caught the light just right and glinted in Loki's periphery. He looked, seeing Thor looking at him with a gentle smile. Always with that smile.

“What's with the look?” Loki asked, voice a little sour. “You always smile at me like that – it makes you look like an absolute imbecile.”

Thor snorted and pulled Loki closer by his waist. “You're the one always letting your mind wander. It's like you've gone to an entirely different universe, leaving your body behind. What were you thinking about?”

Against his will, Loki blurted the truth. “Kissing.”

“Kissing?”

“What kind of question is that?” Loki huffed. “Yes, kissing. I haven't kissed anyone in my life, other than you and mother. Not out of passion.” He stared up at the ceiling above their heads, brows furrowed.

“I can't say the same,” Thor sighed. His palm rested warmly on Loki's ribs. “You've always been so busy with your studies, you've never had the time to do any of that.”

Thor was right of course, Loki had never had any interest in anyone but Thor, and therefore didn't bother with anything else. Loki's mind focused on the future and the past less than the present. Now he was here in the future, and it was…

Thor reached up and cupped Loki's cheek, turning his head toward Thor. Those blue eyes stared at his mouth for a moment before finding his eyes.

Loki's heart raced.

He was so convinced that Thor didn't love him, that Thor didn't love him like he loved Thor, and yet now he was sitting in Thor's bed, loved and caressed. He wanted to scream. Why couldn't he face this? Why was it so terrifying if it was all that he wanted his entire life?

“Is that a bad thing?” Loki asked. His eyes flickered between both of Thor's worriedly. “That I haven't kissed anyone?”

Thor shook his head. He thumbed Loki's cheek softly, eyes glancing down again.

The world was so quiet. Loki's heartbeat was the loudest thing in the entire universe.

“Loki...” Thor whispered. “Do you… Can I…?”

He leaned forward, eyes closing slowly.

Loki's stomach lurched, and it wasn't in the good way. He tore himself out of the light embrace Thor had on him to lean over the side of the bed and hurl.

 

 

 

Thor had moved them to Loki's rooms for the night, resting a reassuring hand on Loki's upper back with a giggle every few steps. Loki had a cup of tea and wiped the embarrassed tears from his eyes, looking paler than usual. Already the servants were cleaning up Thor's room and opening the windows to let fresh air in, but neither Thor nor Loki were keen on sleeping in there.

Loki watched as Thor turned down the covers to Loki's bed and climbed in, inviting Loki with a wave of his hand. At least he would get to sleep with Thor after all. Loki rested his head on the crook of Thor's elbow and sighed deeply. “Sorry for puking in your room.”

Laughing heartily, Thor wrapped him up in a tight hug and shook his head. “It's alright. I was going to ask if I could kiss you, but now I think it'd be a little bit more sour.”

Loki jammed his elbow into Thor's ribs with a frown. “I don't want to kiss you, anyway. I don't care if you're my husband, you're still a gross idiot.”

Thor covered his face as he laughed breathlessly, his ribs aching.

“… You were going to kiss me?” Loki whispered.

“We didn't kiss at the wedding – we haven't kissed at all. It's been weeks. And… we're not brothers.” Thor sounded dubious at that reason at best.

“Don't fool yourself,” Loki huffed. He wrapped his arms around himself and glowered at the wall. The tea hadn't done too much to help rid of the acidic taste in his mouth.

Thor gently caressed Loki's upper arm before he leaned down and kissed his shoulder. “You're right,” he murmured back. “We are brothers. Is it still wrong that I still want to kiss you?”

“A little,” Loki said truthfully. He turned slightly onto his back, mostly just looking over his shoulder.

“I would rather kiss you and be a little wrong than not kiss you and regret it.”

Loki looked him in the eye, feeling much less nervous than before. He huffed through his nose and jerked back into a comfortable position. He nuzzled back into Thor's chest and tugged the blankets up to his nose. “Well, you'll be a little wrong some time later. You don't want to kiss a sour-mouthed Jotun, anyway.”

“Hey! Don't say that!”

“ _You're_ the one who called my mouth _sour!_ ”

“I didn't mean it like that...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://uruhead.tumblr.com/)


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